Ring Around the Wrong Neck Bonus: What Bakura Did
by fringeperson
Summary: Oneshot drabble, complete, don't own. Enough people asked in chapter 15 of my fic "Ring Around the Wrong Neck" what the Thief King did to Dumbledore that I actually sucked in my gut, got off my rear, and asked him for the details I hadn't pressed for before. Here's what happened...


What Bakura did to Dumbledore

"Landlord, if you don't do something about him before we get to our street, then _I_ will," the Thief King said, a growl in his voice. "_He_ is the man who left you on the Dursley's doorstep. You know what I swore to do to him if ever the opportunity presented itself."

"He's all yours, your majesty," Harry answered within his mind as he surrendered control of his body to the ancient personality.

The ancient spirit smirked as Harry's features sharpened with his aspect, bright green eyes darkening with a hint of grey. Long ago, he had decided that he would send Dumbledore to the Shadow Realm at the very first opportunity that presented itself. This was an opportunity presenting itself.

It took next to no effort at all to transport both of them, bodily, to the Shadow Realm, and the old fool could do nothing to counter the action. It had been done too fast, and even if it had been done slowly, Shadow Magic was almost completely lost to the world, so the likelihood of the colour-blind coot knowing _how_ was unlikely.

Interesting loop-hole that people didn't really know about: to imprison a _soul_ in the Shadow Realm required a high-stakes game to be involved. Trapping _bodies_ there had no such limitations. After all, _bodies_ should be able to know how to get out, if they could get in, right? All the same, Bakura wasn't going to just let the old man waste away in the shadows. That would be too _easy_, too _lenient_, and it wouldn't be practical either. The old coot would just annoy the regular inhabitants of the Shadow Realm, and then they'd be less happy about being called upon. Well, unless the Man Eater Bug found the old goat, but even that Monster would probably complain of indigestion.

Borrowing a little bit of Harry's magic, Bakura conjured a large stone tablet.

"Harry, my boy -" the old man began.

"Harry isn't here right now," Bakura cut him off sharply. "Please do _not_ leave a message. You have no right after leaving us exposed to the elements the way you did. Oh yes, I know who you are old man. I have a good idea of what you want from my Light as well."

Dumbledore blinked, taken aback by this harsh young man who was confronting him in an environment he worried had been brought about by the use of Dark magic.

"Harry," Dumbledore insisted, sure that he had the right person, even if they were denying it. "You need to come back to England with me. It is your destiny and duty to defeat Voldemort."

"Did that," Bakura quipped, then shot his arms out, two cards held up, one between the first and second finger of each hand. In one hand he held the card Dark Magic Ritual – he was sure Dumbledore would have appreciated the name of the card if he'd know what it was – and in the other, he held the most common self-destructive card that existed in the game: Kuriboh.

The incense stands and the central birthing plinth appeared with the ritual circle upon it, and Kuriboh hovered over one of the uprights. Dumbledore was lifted above the other.

"Let's see what happens when your Ba is drawn out completely to reveal your Ka Monster," Bakura suggested with a twisted smile on his lips. "Of course, if your Ba is _completely_ drawn out, then you won't _survive_ the process. That's not a problem for you, is it?"

Dumbledore struggled, but he was hanging in the air and all the spells and magic he used in an attempt to get himself down again didn't work against whatever was holding him up.

"Harry, please, there is a prophecy that says you're the only one who can save us from Voldemort! You _must_ come back! You have to be taught and prepared to face him!"

Those were the old man's last words before his lifeless husk fell to the ground once more, the ritual 'sacrifice' complete. Above the plinth, the man's Ba was twisted by the Shadow Realm, the Shadow Magic made easier by the contribution made by the Kuriboh. When the swirling darkness stilled, the new Monster was revealed.

Only, it wasn't a _new_ monster. It was a well known one, and a monster that people did _not_ like to see in their opponent's hands. Still, not _every_ soul made a new monster – it was why Kuriboh were so common that sacrificing just _one_ for this ritual hadn't really been a problem.

Dumbledore's Ka Beast, which Bakura had ripped out his soul to give form to, was a Reaper of the Cards. Unpleasant sort, and not very friendly with the other Monsters for obvious reasons.

It suited the old bastard.

Bakura rifled through the old fool's clothes, to see if there was anything worth keeping – he was a thief after all – and claimed only the wand. The rest, he left for any of the Monsters of the Shadow Realm to _eat_ as they saw fit once he'd sealed this _particular_ Reaper of the Cards into the stone tablet he'd conjured.

~The End~


End file.
